To Protect
by Death Phoenix
Summary: Nightstrike talks some sense into First Aid and other things become clear. "I fight and I kill and I heal to protect and save those precious to me and to my loved ones. And it matters not what I must do to accomplish that." Set after WTTA. G1verse.


Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers or anything associated with Transformers. I do own Nightstrike.

xxxxx

One look at First Aid laying on the repair table was all it took. His fellow medic was being far beyond foolish with his pacifism. Their kind were in the middle of a war started be a lunatic bent on ruling the universe. Seeing the distress and worry hanging around the other Protectobots like a shroud made Nightstrike come to a decision.

_/Nightstrike to Sunstreaker./_

_/Sunstreaker here./_

_/I'm going to be late./_

_/Why?/_ Sunstreaker must have been in a foul mood. One of the minibots had probably been running their vocalizer and ignoring their survival instincts again for the golden warrior to be even more stoic than normal.

_/First Aid got himself hurt on his last mission because he refused to retaliate. Drag Strip's work be the looks of it. So it looks like I will have to sit him down for a talk while he is in a position where he can't ignore my words./_

_/Pacifism in war, much less in the middle of battle is idiotic./_ Yes, his golden lover was not in a good mood at all. Not that he blamed Sunstreaker. Sideswipe and Bluestreak were both on a mission, one of the minibots had probably said something they shouldn't have, and now it looked as if Nightstrike was going to be late for the date they had. No, he didn't blame his irritable lover at all.

_/I know, that is why I have to talk some sense into him before its too late./ _

_If I get through to him I'll probably have to give him self-defense training with Swoop's help. But there is no way I'm involving the Twins. No reason to throw poor First Aid straight in the deep end to see if he'll swim, as Sparkplug would say. Best not to say that right now though._

_/Try not be too late./_

_/I'll try Sunshine. I've been looking forward to this date too much not to try. Nightstrike out./_

Turning his full attention back to the Protectobots, First Aid especially, Nightstrike began to speak. "Ya are aware 'Aid of how lucky ya are tha' I'm th' one on duty right now? Ratchet would 'ave already put his throwing skills ta good use. Because Creator or no Creator he would be very fragged off with ya."

"I know."

"No, I don't think ya do. Well ya lucked out in tha' I'm not Ratchet. But I'm not goin' ta put up with th' blatant stupidity either." Nightstrike turned toward the other Protectobots who were starting to look protective of their gestalt-mate. "Either ya sit down and mute your vocalizers or ya get out of th' med-bay and not let th' door hit ya on th' aft on th' way out."

When Nightstrike let that aura of authority, of command, wrap around him like a familiar well-worn mantle you just didn't disobey. Hotspot, Streetwise, Groove, and Blades all settled down on the empty repair tables that the visored medic had indicated. Seeing that his instructions had been followed Nightstrike turned back to First Aid.

"Ya 'ave been talked ta about this before." It wasn't a question but First Aid nodded anyway. There was little else that Nightstrike could be referring to.

"So did th' words just not connect in your processor or did they go through one audio and out th' other?" The ominous tilt and dangerous glint of Nightstrike's visor stopped the rest of the Protectobots from giving voice to their protests. That, and they really wanted Nightstrike to get through to their gestalt-mate since they had been unable to.

First Aid said nothing, just listening to Nightstrike's words.

"So do ya want ta get your gestalt-mates killed? One of your patients killed?"

"No!" The genuine alarm in his fellow medic's voice satisfied Nightstrike for a moment because it meant he was getting First Aid to actually listen to him and his words.

"What do ya think is goin' ta happen? Either they'll get taken out because ya couldn't or wouldn't defend them. Or they'll die because th' medic who should be repairin' them, which would be ya, is layin' deactivated on th' ground next ta them."

The Protectobots watching Nightstrike talk to First Aid were silent as Nightstrike rendered their gestalt-mate speechless. All of them hated that First Aid wouldn't defend himself. None of them wanted to lose him, especially if it is because he refused to fight back.

"I'm only tellin' ya th' truth. Most 'Cons don't have mercy in them, not anymore. If they seem ta be merciful tis probably a game they're playin'. Ya can't be takin' stupid risks when it is more than just your life and your sanity that you're riskin'."

"But-"

"But nothing. We are at war because some power-hungry tyrant decided tha' th' power he did 'ave was nowhere near enough for his tastes. He was once th' Lord High Protector. Megatron was once trusted before something in him twisted and he betrayed tha' trust." Nightstrike paused to look at their reaction to that little bit of information. "I see by th' looks on all of you are givin' me tha' none of ya knew. Don't take it personally for it is not something normally spoken of, almost taboo. So say nothing of it in public. But really 'Aid ya 'ave no choice."

"There is always a choice!"

The almost sad way Nightstrike responded made First Aid settle back onto the repair table and listen.

"You're wrong, there is no choice. What is more important ta ya, your patients life or your enemies? An enemy tha' will not hesitate ta capture ya then torture ya for information. 'Cons have no compunctions against forced interfacing or maiming or experimentation on prisoners. They take pleasure in it. And tha' is what makes it no choice."

First Aid offlining his optics told Nightstrike he was making progress and getting through to the younger and less experienced medic.

"I've seen and treated mechs who have been captured by Decepticons. I've rescued some as well and I've seen mechs bein' tortured, both on tape and in front of me. Shockwave, Astrotrain, and Blitzwing all take special pleasure in torturing prisoners whether for punishment or for information it matters not. They are often called in to break prisoners for Megatron. Shockwave often uses 'useless' prisoners for his experiments. It is recommended that ya offline yourself before Megatron himself takes a crack at breakin' ya if ya don't fall ta th' other three."

Nightstrike didn't have to look at the other Protectobots to know that the revulsion and horror and concern that was on First Aid's face was mirrored on their's.

"I'm not tellin' ya this ta hurt ya 'Aid. But ya have ta understand what your riskin', all of what you're riskin'."

"Medics are healers."

"So ya think I'm a bad medic, a filthy one."

First Aid onlined his optics to look at his friend, one of his mentors, in alarm. "No, I would never think that! You are one of the best medics I've ever seen, Ratchet even says so."

"But I 'ave taken life, I 'ave dealt pain, and 'ave done so since creation. We were meant ta do many things when my trine-mates and I were created. Ya could almost say we were created for war." None of them could see the slightly bitter but accepting and resigned twist of Nightstrike's mouth components behind his battle mask.

_/'Strike? What's wrong? I can feel your distress through the bond./_

_/I'll tell you later Jazz. I promise./_ Nightstrike felt the wordless acknowledgement come from his trine-mate followed by a wave of comfort before Jazz's presence became muted on his end of the bond.

"Death is a part of war. Fighting is a part of war. I know ya are young First Aid. I know ya don't like all of this fightin'. We all wish we didn't 'ave to do half of what we do. But none of us 'ave th' luxury of exercisin' our personal preferances in regards to violence. Pacifism is a luxury none of us can afford."

"How can you stand killing?" Everything seemed to go silent in the med-bay as if the world at large was waiting to listen to Nightstrike's answer. The Protectobots were all interested in hearing Nightstrike's response.

"Because I know deep in my spark tha' for every Decepticon I send ta th' Matrix I save an innocent life from goin' in their place. I know tha' at least one more comrade will return ta base and be welcomed by th' opened arms of their friends and loved ones. I fight and I kill and I heal ta protect and save those precious ta me and ta my loved ones. And it matters not what I must do ta accomplish tha'."

Nightstrike almost wasn't quite sure what to make of the awe and respect he could sense coming from all five of the Protectobots. It made him proud to know that they were taking his words to spark. It made him equally glad that the only one who had any idea of what he said besides the other five occupants of the med-bay was Red Alert. And it was very unlikely that the Security Director would show anyone the tape from the footage of the med-bay, especially if he asked nicely. Jazz would find out, somehow, so it was best just to tell him and Prowl was probably would have to see it when he asked the SIC to schedule First Aid, Swoop, and himself some time in the training room.

Including Swoop would mean involving the other Dinobots. This didn't bother Nightstrike it just meant that he would have more students than he had originally thought. Besides, there was something that he had been meaning to teach Grimlock that would probably stop any form of Dinobot harassment in its tracks.

"I don't like causing pain."

"Ya cause pain every time ya refuse ta defend yourself. Medics get hurt all th' time shieldin' their patients from enemy attack. Ya just refuse ta defend yourself."

"What do you mean I cause pain every time I don't fight back?" The concern and alarm in First Aid's optics and voice upset his gestalt-mates. None of them liked seeing him in pain but they didn't interfere. Nightstrike was getting through to First Aid like no one ever had before. Many, including Optimus, had tried and failed where Nightstrike was succeeding.

None of the others had been quite this bluntly honest, nor had First Aid truly held many of them in as high regard as he did Nightstrike. In fact only Wheeljack, Ratchet, his gestalt-mates and Swoop were held on the same level of regard as Nightstrike, though there quite a few that were rising to match it. It was hard not to respect those that had the respect of any of his three mentors: Ratchet, Wheeljack, and Nightstrike. The visored medic was a favorite among the fifteen creations of Wheeljack and Ratchet. Those creations being the Aerialbots, the Dinobots, and the Protectobots.

"Every injury ya get on th' battlefield because of your pacifism your gestalt-mates blame themselves for. They all think tha' if only they had been there ta protect ya tha' ya wouldn't be hurt. They all hate seein' ya in pain of any kind but seein' ya on a repair table twists their sparks. Do ya want them ta lose ya? Tha' above many things would destroy them all from th' inside out."

Nightstrike could feel how guilty and miserable First Aid and by extension the rest of the Protectobots felt.

"I know others 'ave tried ta talk with ya about this before." First Aid nodded never taking his optics off of Nightstrike's visor as if he was trying to look into Nightstrike's optics. "Goes ta show tha' Ratchet ain't the hard-aft most seem ta think he is." The Trans Am could hear the barely held in laughter behind him and saw the small smile adorning First Aid's face.

The visored medic paused as Swoop entered through the med-bay doors for his shift in the the med-bay with First Aid. That meant that Nightstrike's shift was over and that his date with Sunstreaker was beginning soon.

"Swoop why are ya a medic?"

For a moment the Protectobots were all thrown by Nightstrike's question. At least they all were until Swoop answered.

"Me Swoop medic to help him Ratchet. Me Swoop medic to help and protect other Dinobots. Them Dinobots need me Swoop. You Nightstrike, him Wheeljack, and him Ratchet as well as him First Aid have helped me Swoop do that."

"Yes, they do need ya Swoop. Just like Hotspot, Streetwise, Groove, and Blades need ya First Aid. Will ya let Swoop and me teach ya ta defend yourself?"

Swoop's answer and Nightstrike's words as well as the emotions he felt from the bond he had with his gestalt-mates had finally opened First Aid's optics and made his decision easier to make.

"Yes I'll learn. As long as you and Swoop are the ones teaching me. I don't like it but I see the necessity." The way First Aid insisted on Nightstrike and Swoop being the ones to teach him sounded as if he were remembering something as he said it.

"Seen how well I dodge and redirect attacks on th' battlefield 'ave ya?" Nightstrike seemed amused, especially when First Aid nodded rather sheepishly.

Every one of the now six other occupants of the med-bay seemed interested.

"Where I'm from every medic knew how ta fight. Th' most common style for a medic ta learn and eventually master was Diffusion which is a primarily defensive style. No one is askin' ya ta kill, though ya may 'ave ta eventually ta save either yourself or a comrade. Diffusion will be th' perfect style for ya ta learn."

xxxxxx

After evicting the four Protectobots not needed in the med-bay Nightstrike turned to his fellow medics. "I would suggest not callin' unless ya really need th' help. Ratchet finally dragged 'Jack out of his lab for some alone time. And I 'ave a date with Sunstreaker, which I'm late for at th' moment. So I would be extra nice ta him for th' next few orns or so if I were ya First Aid. He was not in a good mood when I told him I was goin' ta be late."

That got vigorous nodding from First Aid who understood all too well how bad a fragged off Sunstreaker could be. The fact that Sideswipe, Bluestreak, Nightstrike, Jazz, and Prowl were the only ones who could calm the volatile warrior down was known to the young medic. He had seen the golden Lamborghini and his scarlet twin fight. Their fighting skills were nothing to scoff at and neither was their ire. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had ways of making mechs absolutely miserable when those unfortunate mechs fragged off the Twins. This had become even more apparent after they took Bluestreak and Nightstrike as their lovers. Needless to say there were few who had the ball bearings to drag either the gunner or the medic into any dispute they had with the Twins. The Twins were very, very protective of their lovers.

xxxxx

Sunstreaker lay against his dark lover relishing in the light teasing touches against the vents on his sensitive crests as they both watched the sunset over the ocean. Nightstrike had only been about a breem late for their date but he didn't begrudge his lover the time he had taken to talk some sense into First Aid. The golden Lamborghini knew very well that Nighstrike cared for the younger medic and he hated seeing any of the small group he gave a slag about upset in any way. First Aid's idiotic pacifism had upset Nightstrike.

But he was glad that Nightstrike had only been a little late. His dark lover's presence had calmed him and those gentle hands had soothed him. The day had not been a good one since Sideswipe and Bluestreak left for their mission. In fact it hadn't started getting good until he had seen Nighstrike appear in the new quarters the Twins shared. They now had a room right next to the one Bluestreak and Nightstrike shared and down the hall from the one Prowl and Jazz now shared.

Seeing Nightstrike's uncovered face was like hearing Bluestreak laugh in pure happiness and feeling Sideswipe playfully nudge him through their bond. The only thing that would make it better would be if Nighstrike smiled. He just knew that the sight of Nightstrike truly smiling would be worth painting, just like Sideswipe with mischief in his optics and Bluestreak in peaceful recharge. But he wasn't going to tell his visor-wearing lover that, even if he knew that Nightstrike would listen and not judge as well as repeat nothing of what was said.

That elusive smile would look all the sweeter if it were earned and Sunstreaker was not the only one who wanted to see it or think that. The golden Lamborghini was roused from his thoughts by Nightstrike's silky voice. The medic really had no idea how seductive he could be. It just made it worse that the medic was truly oblivious to the effect he had on some mechs and especially on his lovers.

"Th' sunsets and sunrises on Earth are captivatin'."

"They aren't the only thing captivating."

"Why Sunshine, I do believe ya are flirtin' with me. Perhaps ya want ta sweet talk me inta somethin'?"

Sunstreaker carefully moved until he was kneeling in front of the reclining medic. Gently, more gently than most would credit him the golden warrior pulled his dark lover into his lap. There was nothing gentle about the kiss he pulled the medic into. This kiss was all heat and passion and built up frustration from the day and Nightstrike was Sunstreaker's relief. All the pent up emotions were poured into the visored medic who gladly took them into himself and gave of himself in return.

The careful way Sunstreaker held Nighstrike said more eloquently than words just how much the medic meant to the feral warrior. The only ones the golden warrior ever touched with such consideration, such care, such restraint, were Sideswipe, Bluestreak, and Nightstrike. None of them failed to notice the significance nor did they fail to cherish the distinction.

Golden fingers explored every inch of that uncovered face with unhurried abandon. There was no reason to rush the exploration of Nightstrike's face, not when he had the pleasure and privilege of doing so whenever he wished in private. Just as he had the pleasure and privilege of touching the horns on Sideswipe's helmet and Bluestreak's doorwings. Really, nothing was better or made more sense than the four of them being lovers. The three of them were Sunstreaker's and Primus help anyone who thought or tried to make it otherwise.

xxxxx

Nightstrike really hated it when his lovers were on missions. Now he had nothing against humans, in fact he rather liked Sparkplug, Spike, and Chip who were the closest human friends the Autobots had at the moment, but he really hated that they had to go to such elaborate lengths to keep up good relations. Nighstrike was rather sure that Sunstreaker was going to blow a fuse when Ironhide, who was in charge of scheduling at the time seeing as Prowl had not yet returned, scheduled him to go to visit an elementary school with Trailbreaker. Bluestreak had patrol with Gears while Sideswipe was partnered with Huffer.

Needless to way none of his lovers were happy with how their day was starting. It just figured that Prowl would return right after those with the morning shift had already left to start their assigned duties for the day. It was also typical that Nightstrike had just gotten off a hectic, extended night shift and had missed all three of them by mere breems.

With the way the day was already going Nightstrike wasn't all that surprised about being called into the Conference Room, which was currently occupied by Ratchet, Wheeljack, Prowl, and Optimus Prime. The occupants didn't overly surprise Nightstrike. Jazz had been sent on a mission less than a mega-cycle ago that required his special touch. Ironhide was in charge of the Communications until Blaster returned from a telecommunications conference he was attending. Red Alert was probably in the Security Room pulling a double shift, well he would be until either Inferno, Nightstrike, or Ratchet sent him to his berth to recharge.

"Ya needed me for somethin'?" Nightstrike really wasn't in the mood to be more than marginally polite at the moment. Prowl handed the medic a datapad which he gave a quick glance over before reading more closely. The tactician was also the one who answered Nightstrike's question.

"We received reports from Iacon this morning. Ultra Magnus specifically sent that for you."

"An' I can see why." More than one head rose from the datapad they were reading to look at Nightstrike. Taking the curious looks for what they were the medic answered.

"It's a request for my presence in Iacon. It's only for about an orn and I would need someone ta accompany me."

Optimus spoke for the first time since Nightstrike entered the room. "What is your presence requested for?"

"There are certain supplies they are in need of tha' they can't get through normal channels. Th' suppliers will only deal with Jazz, myself, and our trine-mate. Both of them are on missions at th' moment and I've been th' one th' suppliers 'ave been dealin' with for th' last half a vorn. They're picky about who they do business with. Ultra Magnus wouldn't ask if they didn't need th' supplies."

"What kind of supplies?" Wheeljack was curious, it sounded as if Nightstrike and Jazz had very out there contacts like Smokescreen.

"Mostly medical supplies and hard ta find components for weapons. Sometimes it is even harder ta find parts for energon converters. At times it can be easier ta find the energy than ta convert it inta consumable energon."

"Do you have someone in mind to accompany you then?" Nightstrike was almost thankful that Optimus had asked that instead of prying further. Somehow Nightstrike very much doubted that the Autobot Commander would be all that happy to find out about the illegally procured weapons and other business conducted with those whose reputations were questionable at best. Ignorance was bliss in some cases.

"Spike is not on th' Ark at th' moment and Bumblebee is free. I would request tha' Bumblebee accompany me ta Iacon. Th' both of us 'ave th' best chance of gettin' through th' Space Bridge undetected." No one in the room could refute that. Nightstrike had gone on several missions with the other Special Ops agents and had been an asset. The visored medic was as quiet and as skilled as his trine-mate Jazz. If only they knew.

Any of the three trine-mates could have told them that, or that the need to survive sharpens all skills when they become imperative to surviving.

xxxxx

Going through the Space Bridge was relatively simple for yellow minibot and the visored medic. It always surprised Bumblebee when he watched Nightstrike move. It was a predatory glide and like watching one of those big Earth cats; with the medic's coloring a panther came to mind. It just seemed surreal to see someone of the medic's size seemingly melt into shadow with not a sound. It had been the same when he had first began to work with Jazz but the music-loving mech was the Chief of Special Operations. Finding out Nightstrike was trine-mates with Jazz made the medic's skills make more sense.

A healer who moved like a warrior. A warrior with the air of a healer. Hands stained in energon from both taking and saving life. What a contradiction.

xxxxx

It wasn't until they were safely in Iacon and able to travel openly that Bumblebee began to notice things that seemed unusual. Many of the Autobots they came across in the corridors of the base saluted or acknowledged Nightstrike as respectfully as if the medic were an officer.

It soon became apparent that Nightstrike was held in high regard among the residents of Iacon and doubly so among those who were stationed in the Autobot Base itself. Quite a few Cybertronians approached the medic to inquire about his well-being and how he was with his new post on Earth. Bumblebee wasn't sure whether he should be insulted or not when it seemed quite a few of those who asked that last question in particular were disappointed that Nightstrike did indeed like being transferred to the Ark and wasn't going to ask to be transferred back. It seemed that Nightstrike was as well liked here as he was on the Ark.

Too bad for them that Nightstrike had found a second family in the Ark crew members that he wasn't going to give up. Besides, why would he give up his lovers, one of his trine-mates, his friends, for a higher position in Iacon? Especially when his first family wasn't in Iacon and those that were at the Autobot Base had their own duties to attend to.

xxxxx

Bluestreak wasn't quite sure what he was expecting when he got back from the patrol from the Pit, but he wasn't expecting to come back to an Ark without Nightstrike in it. Their room, where he had gone first so that he could clean up in the private wash-rack, was empty but that wasn't surprising. Not finding Nightstrike in the 'common room' that Jazz had created in their hall wasn't surprising either, but not finding the medic in the med-bay or the Security Room with Red Alert was surprising.

Unable to find his visor-wearing lover Bluestreak headed to the rec-room in hopes of finding his golden and scarlet lovers; they should be back by now as well. Upon arriving he spotted the Twins drinking energon at one of the tables and complaining about their day. Needless to say all complaining stopped when Bluestreak informed them that he was unable to locate Nightstrike. The gunner was well aware of how protective the Twins were of Nightstrike and himself so telling them that Nightstrike was nowhere to be seen set off those protective instincts.

The three of them went straight to Prowl's office in hopes that the SIC would shed some light on where their missing lover was. All of them were well aware that Nightstrike had just gotten off of a night shift before they left that morning so he should have been on the Ark, unless an emergency had come up.

Bluestreak was a bit surprised to see Jazz in Prowl's office looking relatively tired and in need of some energon and recharge. The gunner wasn't the only one surprised. Prowl and Jazz weren't expecting the three of them in the tactician's office at all. Jazz was quick to note that his trine-mate wasn't with them and that set off alarm bells in his processor. A quick look through their bond told Jazz that Nightstrike was nowhere near the Ark. The medic was too far away to sense properly. The saboteur's thoughts and what his senses were telling him were confirmed by the words that came out of Sideswipe's vocalizer.

"Prowl do you know where Nightstrike is? We know he should be off right now even if he worked a double shift."

"A request came this morning straight from Ultra Magnus. Nightstrike's presence was requested in Iacon for at least an orn. Bumblebee accompanied him to Iacon through the Space Bridge. A notice was recieved not that long ago that both had made it to the Autobot Base unharmed and with no trouble."

"Wha' exactly did Ultra Magnus need 'Strike for Prowler? It had ta be somethin' vital for 'Strike ta drop everythin' ta go all th' way ta Iacon without tellin' us." Jazz was upset and really he wasn't the only one. They all got sent on missions and were assigned duties all the time but they informed each other or at least left a message when they had to be gone for more than a few solar cycles. Nightstrike was going to be gone for at least an orn.

"The way Nightstrike explained it the supplies that are needed are provided by certain suppliers that will only deal with your trine." Prowl along with the other occupants of the office noticed the understanding followed by resignation come over Jazz's face.

"Tha' sounds 'bout righ'. They won't deal with anyone who doesn't meet a certain criteria. Very picky 'bout who they do business with."

"And these suppliers, are they dangerous Jazz?" Now Jazz wasn't going to lie to his lover and he wasn't going to lie to his trine-mate's lovers either. Not when some of them looked worried and others looked to be getting 'upset', as in protectively angry. It wasn't hard to guess which two of the four had which reactions.

"There are some of us with shadier connections by necessity Prowl and tha' always poses a danger. But th' suppliers Nightstrike would be dealin' with wouldn't dare ta cross him, not when they know wha' kind of response they would get. 'Strike has lots of contacts and is well-liked among th' Neutrals; all three of us are. Attackin' one of our trine is th' same as askin' ta be permanently deactivated."

None of them asked what Jazz meant by that, they weren't sure if they were ready to hear that explanation.

xxxxx

By the end of the orn quite a few 'Bots had noticed Nightstrike's absence as well as the absence of Bumblebee. Eventually it got around the Ark that both of their absent crew members were in Iacon and that there would be a transmission from the Iacon Base the morning of the thirteenth solar cycle. Needless to say there was quite a crowd around Teletraan-One as they waited for the transmission.

A great number of those present, including Optimus, Ratchet, and Ironhide, were surprised when the visage of the old veteran Kup appeared on the screen. They had been expecting Ultra Magnus or Elita-One, not Kup. The implications of Kup being the one to send the transmission were slightly ominous and would have been more so if the elder Cybertronian hadn't looked amused.

"You will have to forgive me for being the one to send this transmission Optimus. Nightstrike and the minibot Bumblebee will have to stay in Iacon for at least another mega-cycle."

"For what reason may I ask?" The amusement in Kup's optics became more prominent.

"Medic's orders. And no one disobeys when Nightstrike gives those out."

"Nightstrike ordered them to stay in Iacon for another mega-cycle? Is something wrong Kup?"

"Upon arrival Nightstrike went to the med-bay and was not happy in the slightest about the condition it was in. Apparently it failed to meet Nightstrike's very high standards. Ratchet has definitely been rubbing off on him because it was one of the most scathing dressing downs I have ever had the privilege to witness. I had not thought it possible to for that medic to get any scarier or for his glossa to get any sharper."

"That does not answer my question Kup."

"I'm getting to it youngling. No respect for elders these days. We had a battle with Shockwave and his troops very recently. Nightstrike is the highest ranking medical officer on Base and both he and Bumblebee joined in the battle. The hostility between Nightstrike and Shockwave is well-known so it wasn't surprising that he would want to go even if he wasn't a medic. So needless to say Nighstrike has taken over the med-bay and is treating the wounded as we speak. I would suggest against trying to order him away from his patients, especially the one he is working on right now."

No, very few of the Ark crew knew about the hostility between their black visor-wearing medic and the twisted Decepticon scientist Shockwave. Their comrade and his trine just kept surprising them. They had no idea.

"I know very well how unwise pulling a medic away from their patients is Kup. But what do you mean about the patient he is working on right now?" Optimus, as well as a great many others in the room noticed how Kup's optics landed on the Protectobots and the Aerialbots.

"The last time I saw him Nightstrike was up to his elbow joints in Lightspeed. Lightspeed is one of the Technobots and none of them were too happy with _their_ medic being transferred without them. They're a gestalt team that he 'rescued' half a vorn ago and considering they were just created when Nightstrike saved them they are rather possessive of him. In fact, there has been a Technobot with him everywhere he has gone since he arrived on Base and he was 'persuaded' to stay in the Technobot quarters. I would say they rather missed their adopted Creator."

Jazz was rather glad he had known about this beforehand because he didn't look foolish like many of the rest of those present who had wide optics and mouth components hanging open. It was amusing though to watch them all in shock. There were those who didn't show as much surprise, but that was only Ratchet, Wheeljack, and Perceptor. Skyfire and Red Alert were not present. The looks of dawning realization on the two gestalt teams present was also interesting to watch. It made perfect sense now why Nightstrike always seemed to know how to handle them when one of their number needed medical attention; he had practice.

xxxxx

He knew the moment Nightstrike returned to Earth. The medic's presence could be felt clearly through their bond. Nightstrike's absence had effected him and the ache of that absence was not something he really wanted to repeat, even though he knew it would be repeated. It had also reminded Jazz that he had not had the pleasure of reconnecting with his trine-mate for some time. Both of them had been putting aside their desire to reconnect for the sake of their lovers. That had been quite an interesting discussion, even though Nightstrike had been the one to sit Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Bluestreak, and Prowl down and give a more in-depth explanation about trines and the relationships involved.

Jazz thanked Primus that Nightstrike had been the one to give that talk. But neither of them had exactly given into their urges because they really wanted their lovers to accept what being involved with them entailed. Sharing was far from a foreign concept among Cybertronians, even among spark-bonded. But Jazz and Nightstrike really didn't want to cause their lovers to have any doubts about their feelings toward them. Bonded mechs usually didn't look elsewhere for permanent companionship of the romantic kind. In fact most were surprised that the Twins had taken lovers and after finding about Jazz and Nightstrike being trine-mates were surprised they had taken lovers as well.

Silently leaving the berth Jazz moved to the door of the quarters he shared with Prowl. He didn't like leaving his lover alone in the berth but Nightstrike was finally home where he belonged. And Jazz really couldn't deny himself what he wanted and needed right now. Not when Nightstrike had left without telling him and was now returning home early.

Behind him on the berth Prowl onlined his optics to the sight his lover leaving their quarters. But what really captured his interest was the almost hungry look Jazz wore and the predatory way he was walking, as if he were stalking prey. What was causing Jazz to act this way? The only logical thing to do to find out the answer to his curiousity would be to follow. But Prowl was rather sure that the way Jazz was acting involved Nightstrike somehow. The medic wasn't due back for another solar cycle but that was only the estimated time of return. It would probably be best to get the Twins and Bluestreak, none of them had been all that happy with their lover's long absence either, few on the Ark had liked it.

xxxxx

Nightstrike had known the moment he had set foot inside the Ark that something was up. And he knew for a fact that it involved Jazz. His trine-mate was shielding far too tightly for him not to be involved. Jazz was probably upset about him failing to tell the saboteur about his leaving for Iacon. His lovers probably hadn't been too happy either but he had had the feeling that he needed to leave immediately. And his instincts had been correct. Nightstrike's early arrival had saved the lives of several Autobots and secured the much needed supplies. The suppliers wouldn't have been on Cybertron to get supplies from if Nightstrike had arrived a joor later.

But that didn't change the fact he had upset some of his precious ones. That meant he would have to make it up to them. Though he had the feeling he would make it up to Jazz tonight. He was more than right.

xxxxx

Nightstrike had known the second he walked into the common room that Jazz and himself had made in their hall that he didn't need to fight back. That the arms holding him securely and the frame pressed tightly against his own belonged to Jazz. His trine-mate was apparently in a dominating mood.

Jazz wanted to remind Nightstrike that the medic was as much a part of him as he was of the medic and to make clear to the medic that the Trans Am was going to refrain from running off without telling him first.

Nightstrike put up no resistance as Jazz moved him further into the room and bid him to lay on the couch that faced the doorway. The second his back was flat against the couch Jazz was sitting astride his waist. Gentle digits removed Nightstrike's battle mask, leaving the medic's face bare to Jazz's gaze. It was a subtle reminder that Jazz was one of Nightstrike's loved ones and as such was entitled to certain things. The state of the medic's being was one of them and when he was leaving for long missions was another.

The saboteur could understand Nightstrike not trying to contact him when he knew Jazz was on a mission and that his lovers were on duty but the medic could have left a note or told Prowl to inform any of them upon their return. But the medic had done none of that so there had to be a reason. He would find out soon enough.

The medic's arms were placed above his head and a look from Jazz meant they were to stay there until the saboteur said otherwise. Jazz was in charge this time and Nightstrike was to submit to Jazz. The medic apparently needed to be reminded that he had precious ones who liked knowing he was safe. Nightstrike had been alone for far too long at the Iacon Base where he was stationed several vorn after the Ark left Cybertron. Long missions with the Wreckers probably hadn't come often enough and only occasion visits from Sandstorm had taken their toll. Jazz was going to remind Nightstrike that he mattered and that disappearing was not wise anymore.

xxxxx

Neither Jazz or Nightstrike were aware they had an audience so engrossed they were in each other. They had put off reconnecting for too long for the second time since they were reunited. Prowl, Bluestreak, Sideswipe, and Sunstreaker watched in fascination as Jazz touched Nightstrike. The sights and sounds were so erotic they could feel themselves heating up.

But none of them interferred or made their presence known. All of them were quite aware that their lovers had been neglecting to reconnect. And it didn't take a genius to figure out the reasons.

xxxxx

"Let up on them." The order cut through the air, as did the answering moan. Jazz had slowly teased the mech below him with feather light touches that were driving Nightstrike insane with desire. The order Jazz had made would make the medic even more suseptible to those maddening, barely there touches. Letting up on the setting of the dampeners would make Nightstrike more sensitive than he was, but it would do no good to ignore the order. Nightstrike had given Jazz control so he had to listen.

Jazz's next touch after the dampeners had been lessened had the medic arching beneath Jazz. Never once did the medic's arms leave the position they had been placed in. The saboteur watched with desire as pleasure crossed over that dearly beloved face and felt it vibrate through that intimately familiar body. Nightstrike always looked so beautiful when he was caught up in pleasure, when all of his defenses came down, well Jazz at least thought so. But what was even more beautiful was the sounds coming from the medic's vocalizer; they were music to Jazz's audios. Such a sexy voice, most ignored that because of how Nightstrike talked, just as they ignored how sexy Prowl's voice was because of who he was

But Jazz wanted more, more of those delicious sounds, more of those pleasured looks, and most of all he wanted to feel Nightstrike's essence mingle with and engulf his own and do the same in return.

So in the pursuit of his desires Jazz leaned down to capture those lips with his own in such a ardent kiss that it almost seemed as if he were trying to envelop his trine-mate in his passion. Delicate caresses and deliberately teasing touches were deliered to the places Jazz knew would drive Nightstrike the most wild. Having the medic writhing beneath him and hearing those shuddering moans was intoxicating but the saboteur wanted more.

He wanted Nightstrike to come undone for him.

Those clever digits that pleasurabley tormented Nightstrike so, seemed to explore every inch of him as if Jazz was reclaiming every piece of him. It had been too long for both of them. The only thing that would make it better would be if Sandstorm were here.

Little arcs of lightning seemed to streak across the medic's frame as well as Jazz's. Their fans were working overtime to cool down their overheated systems.

Everything came to a crescendo when Jazz made one final demand.

"Scream for me."

And scream Nightstrike did as their systems fell in sync and they fell into each other. The medic screamed out Jazz's designation as they both fell into overload together. The combined pulse of their electrical fields had sent them over the edge and began the reconnection of their bond. A full reconnection would require the presence all three trine-mates.

Their overload was so strong they were both knocked temporarily offline, at least it seemed that way to their audience.

xxxxx

"Man, we have to get them to let us watch them together more often. That was just hot." Sideswipe was the one who said what they were all thinking. Seeing and hearing the pleasure both Jazz and Nightstrike were feeling had been an erotic experience. An experience none of them would be opposed to experiencing again.

Though it was more than a little intriguing to know they could join in as well because it was now their privilege as lovers.

xxxxx

_/How am I supposed to protect you, watch your back, if I don't know where you are?/_

_/I am sorry Jazz. But you see why I had to leave don't you? They needed those medical supplies. I saved several Autobots, including Lightspeed, with those supplies./_

_/I do understand but I don't have to like it. And neither do your lovers when you get around to explaining to them./_ Nightstrike could feel the amusement of his trine-mate at this thought.

_/You are incorrigle you know that?/_ Then Nightstrike paused as he became aware of what his senses had been trying to tell him for some time. _/You do know our lovers watched us don't you?/_

The wave of shock he recieved was answer enough. Then Nightstrike shared his senses with Jazz. Together they both began to plot as they deciphered exactly what they were sensing.

Their lovers had liked what they saw, had been aroused by it in fact. Perhaps _finding_ Jazz and Nightstrike in compromising situations a few more times would entice at least one of them into joining in? Perhaps some casual touching and other affection from both of them to Prowl, Bluestreak, Sunstreaker, and Sideswipe would help ease them into trine mentality? The medic and saboteur couldn't wait to start, after all, they always succeeded when they worked together.


End file.
